


Not Bad for a First Talk

by knowyourincantations



Series: Sapphic September 2019 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Open Ending, Pre-Relationship, Sapphic September, Sapphic September 2019, Werewolf Millicent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowyourincantations/pseuds/knowyourincantations
Summary: Millicent Bulstrode has seemed out of sorts every since coming back for the repeat seventh year. Hermione noticed and put two and two together when she disappeared from classes and meals over the full moon.





	Not Bad for a First Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sapphic September 2019 Day 9: "Leave me alone" and 'Monster'

Hermione was deeply engrossed in proofreading an essay for Ancient Runes when an argument broke out in the common room. A quick glance across the room revealed the cause, and thoughts of her essay vanished from her mind.

Pansy and Tracey seemed to have cornered Millicent by the fireplace. Hermione had noticed her sitting in an armchair there when she’d sat down to work on her essay. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken note of her in a room. Ever since returning for their repeat final year, she’d been unable to stop herself from noticing her.

Millicent had always been quieter than the other Slytherin girls, often called stupid by others, even her own friends sometimes. Hermione had kept her distance over the years, as she had with all the Slytherins, whether they were outwardly hateful towards her or not. But she had not failed to notice Millicent was not as stupid as everyone seemed to think. She just didn’t brag when she, without fail, placed within the top ten students of her every class, and the top five for Transfiguration in particular.

That quiet disinterest in house rivalry nonsense over the years, baring her participation in the Inquisitorial Squad, had changed to a general disinterest in everything since September, tainted by listlessness and often accompanied by red-rimmed eyes. When Hermione had entered the common room to work on her essay, she’d found herself startled by just how upset Millicent had looked, and the fact she’d chosen to sit in the common room and let everyone see.

Then again, as Hermione thought back to the full moon two days prior, Millicent probably needed the heat from the fire to lessen the pain in her joints after her transformation. And that probably explained why she looked particularly miserable as well.

“Come on, Millie, enough is enough,” Pansy said loudly. “It’s been months, you need to stop moping around and start doing things again.”

Tracey made a sound of agreement. “You haven’t joined us in Hogsmeade in ages. Let’s go this weekend, just three of us.”

Millicent, who was slumped in the armchair and not even looking at them, just tiredly muttered, “Leave me alone.”

Hermione glanced around the room, taking note of who else was around. No one really said anything whenever the Slytherins had little disagreements, but she’d heard a lot of mutterings about how Millicent always brought the mood down in every room she entered. It wouldn’t have surprised Hermione if someone else joined in just to get her to stop looking so miserable all the time.

“You’re not interested in anything anymore,” Tracey muttered. “It’s not good for you.”

“What happened to that project you wanted to do for Care of Magical Creatures?” Pansy asked. “It was all you could talk about last year. We’ll help. Let’s go see Hagrid now, yeah?”

On the arms of her chair, Millicent’s fingers dug into the upholstery, and Hermione found herself standing up.

“Are you kidding?” she hissed as she crossed the room in three big strides. “She’s still recovering, now is not the time to badger her. Let her rest.”

Pansy and Tracey turned surprised looks her way. Millicent continued to stare at the fireplace.

“Piss off, Granger, this has nothing to do with you,” Tracey said uncertainly, her gaze skittering around the room.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pansy scoffed. “Go back to your books.”

Irritation drowned out Hermione’s good sense, and she leaned closer to hiss, “I know better than to interfere with a werewolf trying to rest only two days after a full moon!”

Both Tracey and Pansy looked like they’d seen a Dementor, and they swept the common room again.

“How the fuck do you know about that?” Pansy hissed, her hand shooting out to grab Hermione’s arm in a tight grip to pull her closer. “McGonagall said she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Hermione barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

“I’m not an idiot, Parkinson,” she said, pulling free from her grip. “I put it together.”

Pansy opened her mouth, probably to try and threaten her into silence, but then Millicent stood up and she closed it with a snap. For once, Millicent didn’t look sad or listless. She looked angry.

Hermione braced herself, but Millicent ignored her completely, reaching out and shoving Tracey away from her.

“Why can’t you both just leave off for once?” she asked. “No one would even notice if you didn’t keep making such a fuss over me! I don’t want to go to Hogsmeade, I don’t want to anything to do with Care of Magical Creatures. I just want to be left alone!”

When she turned to leave, Hermione stepped out of her way, but Millicent grabbed her wrist as she walked past and tugged her along after her. Hermione was so surprised by it that she didn’t struggle, and let Millicent tug her all the way down the corridor to the dormitories.

It was only after Millicent dragged her into a dormitory and let her go to slam the door shut that she realised she probably should have resisted.

Millicent didn’t speak at first, instead, she leaned her forehead against the door. Her breathing was loud and slow. It only took a moment for Hermione to realise she was trying to calm herself down.

Two days after the full moon. It was not the time to be aggravating her.

“I shouldn’t have interfered, I made things worse,” Hermione admitted. She couldn’t really account for it. She knew better, and yet she’d just acted. She’d been entirely too focused on Millicent lately, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I’m sorry.”

“How long have you known?” Millicent finally asked, turning back around. She leaned back against the door, effectively trapping Hermione in the room.

If it had been any of the other Slytherin girls, werewolf or not, Hermione would have been on edge at once. But there was something about Millicent, she found herself more concerned for her than wary of her. It had been clear since she’d first realised that Millicent was not handling her situation well.

“September,” she admitted freely. “You weren’t in any classes on the full moon, and then you missed dinner. You looked awful the next day when you reappeared for dinner after missing all your classes again. Although, I didn’t know for sure until October, when it happened again.

Millicent closed her eyes in a grimace. “So everyone knows I’m a monster then.”

Hermione blinked at her, sure she’d heard her wrong. When Millicent didn’t speak again, she found herself getting agitated.

“You’re not a monster. Who said that to you?” she asked, surprised by how shrill her own voice became.

“Oh, I don’t need anyone to tell me that,” Millicent said bitterly. “Anti-werewolf sentiment didn’t get any better for all you lot advocated against discrimination.” She met Hermione eyes and then laughed weakly. “My own cat won’t come near me anymore. I’ve had her since I was a kid, she’d terrified of me now. If that doesn’t make it clear...”

Hermione winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Millicent,” she said.

With another bitter laugh, Millicent slid down the door and sat on the floor. She shifted her legs and groaned softly, then propped her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands.

“You almost sound like you mean that,” she said.

“I do mean it,” Hermione insisted, lowering herself to the floor as well until she sat across from her. “That can’t be easy, losing your pet after everything you went through already.”

Millicent shook her head behind her hands. She was still blocking the door, but Hermione had a feeling that was more because she was still so tired and sore after the full moon. If she hadn’t been standing in front of it when she’d sat down, Hermione was sure she’d let her leave.

“I don’t even know why I came back,” Millicent muttered, sliding her hands off her face and leaning back against the door. “I should have stayed away like Brown did.” She looked at Hermione and then grimaced. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this either.”

With an awkward shrug, Hermione looked around the room. Pansy and Tracey were probably livid that she was in their room. In fact, she was surprise they weren’t already banging on the door to be let in.

“You did the right thing by dropping Care of Magical Creatures,” Hermione said, turning back to Millicent. “It would have given you away. Many magical creatures are sensitive to others.”

Millicent’s shoulders dropped and her lips trembled for a moment. Hermione had seen her with red-rimmed eyes often, but she’d actually never seen her cry. In fact, before that year, she was sure she’d never even seen her upset. She’d always been so immune to things around her. Sometimes Hermione had envied her for it.

“It was my favourite subject,” Millicent said, with a wobble in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said again. She was no good at these sorts of things. Ron always seemed to know the right thing to say. Even when they’d fumbled their way through breaking up, he’d known exactly what to say, while she had managed to sound completely insensitive.

Now it was just easier to say she was sorry when she didn’t know what else to say. It still annoyed her that she was no good at this, but at least she was less likely to say the wrong thing that way.

“Why?” Millicent said, frowning over at her. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? We were never friends.”

Hermione shrugged, her face growing hot. She was at a loss to explain it. It was the right thing to do, given what Millicent was going through. Only someone heartless would be cruel to her about this. But saying that wasn’t exactly kind. Besides, it went beyond that, and she knew it, as much as she wanted to deny it.

“Why not?” she said. “That’s all in the past, right?”

“You lot forgive too easily,” Millicent snorted, shaking her head and rubbing at her left knee.

“You’re still sore?” Hermione said, watching her massage the joint.

“The aching lasts for days,” Millicent mutters.

“It’ll ease off after a few more months,” Hermione said, recalling what Professor Lupin had told her. He’d been quite patient when she’d gone to him full of questions the first time she’d seen him again after he’d stopped teaching them. “Then it will only be for the first and maybe second day after. Until you get older at least.”

“How do you know that?” Millicent squinted at her. “That’s not in any textbooks.”

“I knew Professor Lupin fairly well after he left,” she explained, wincing for a moment at a pang of sadness. She really ought to visit Teddy with Harry next time he went. He kept asking her and Ron to go, but she still felt very awkward about it. She didn’t know what to do with a baby.

Millicent looked down at her legs and rubbed at her other knee. She grimaced, but her eyes weren’t focused on anything, and Hermione guessed it wasn’t her sore joints behind it. It seemed so long ago now, but she remembered all the nasty things the Slytherins had said about Lupin after he’d been forced to leave.

It suddenly didn’t seem so wise, to bring him up.

“I said awful things about him,” Millicent finally said with a frown. “I don’t know why. I didn’t really believe them. I didn’t like them. I never liked that purity rot. I’m half-blood myself.”

Hermione winced. She really didn’t want to have this conversation. She’d overheard a couple like it over the first few months, people apologising and trying to put the past behind them. It all made her uncomfortable. She’d said a lot of hurtful things about others herself, even if she’d refrained from doing it to their faces and was spared the necessity of apologies. Sometimes she’d rather just pretend none of it had ever happened, just to avoid these sorts of conversations.

“It takes a lot of courage to stand up to your friends,” she murmured, thinking about what Dumbledore had said about Neville in their first year. She’d mostly been irritated by him then, but he really had been brave, and it hadn’t really been about the points either. He’d been trying to stop them from losing points more because everyone had been angry with them for it. He’d wanted to spare them that feeling instead. He’d been a good friend even when she hadn’t considered him one. “Pansy and Tracey really seem to be trying.”

Millicent grimaced. “I know. I just...they were never this nice to me before. It’s weird. It’s too like pity.”

“I don’t know, they seemed to be trying to get you doing things you like, rather than just saying meaningless things to cheer you up,” Hermione said, still feeling like she was saying all the wrong things. “I mean, they were getting it wrong with the Care of Magical Creatures thing and trying to get you to do things so soon after the full moon, but at least they tried to think about things you enjoyed once?”

It reminded Hermione of when Harry was having his rough patches over the years. Those times when it seemed she and Ron could do nothing right and only seemed to upset him further. She had wanted to give up a few times, thinking Harry was finally sick of her, but Ron had always urged her to keep trying, so Harry knew they still cared even when he was being a jerk in return.

“I mean, they probably would have given up on you by now if they didn’t really care, right?” she tried. “They don’t gain anything by persisting like this, do they? Why bother unless they care?”

It sounded awful, but it also sounded Slytherin, so it hopefully made more sense to her.

Millicent seemed to consider it. Hermione looked around the room again. She had a feeling the bed that was surrounded by mess was Millicent’s. She was probably too tired and sore to keep tidy. Or maybe she was always messy and Hermione was overthinking things out of awkwardness.

“Not like Daphne,” Millicent finally said. “She’s just been avoiding me since the start of term. When she found out we were all going to be roomed together she went straight to McGonagall and asked to be moved. They stopped talking to her after that, actually.”

An unlikely and utterly foreign feeling of respect for Pansy and Tracey wormed its way through Hermione. She might not like them, and they might still be utter cows in her opinion, but it really did sound like they cared, even if they didn’t seem to really get it.

Then again, that might be on Millicent for not explaining it to them.

“Sounds like they really care,” Hermione said. “Maybe you should talk to them about it, let them know why you don’t want to do what they suggest. I’m sure they’ll understand and think of new things you might enjoy.”

Millicent frowned at her.

“You’re good at this,” she said.

Hermione gaped at her. “Am I?”

“Probably all that practise with Potter and his moods,” Millicent said, sounding amused. “You really are good at everything. It’s just not fair.”

Heat crept into Hermione’s face. It was something she’d heard so often she’d sort of become numb to it. It was a little embarrassing that it had an effect on her now.

While she was trying to think of a response, Millicent struggled to her feet with a groan. Hermione scrambled to her own feet, reaching out when Millicent staggered to the side.

“I’m alright,” Millicent muttered. “Just stiff and sore, as you are apparently well aware, since you know everything.”

“You should go back down to the fire,” Hermione said.

Millicent grimaced and shook her head.

“How many other people know?”

Hermione bit her lip. As far as she knew, the others in their year didn’t, with the exception of Millicent’s friends and Ron, Harry, and herself. Everyone was too busy making the most of life after the war to pay attention. It said a lot about her that she had noticed, really. She liked to explain it away as experience after Lupin, and sensitivity to such things after the war, but really, she’d just been keeping an eye on Millicent and wasn’t ready to think about what that meant.

“Ron and Harry know,” she admitted, her mouth continuing with a mind of its own. “I didn’t tell them, they noticed me noticing. I don’t think anyone else knows.”

“Well, Potter hasn’t come after me in a blaze of righteous, heroic fury, so maybe I’m not really a monster after all,” Millicent sighed.

Hermione gaped at her, then Millicent’s lips twitched and she realised Millicent was _playing_ with her. It was clear it was a joke, maybe to ease some tension, not that she’d ever have thought Millicent would care if there was tension between them. Hermione still couldn’t stop herself from replying seriously.

“No, you’re not,” she said softly. “Harry’s actually very sympathetic. He was also very close to Lupin.”

Millicent’s lip wobbled for a moment before she bit down on it harshly. Hermione cursed herself for saying the wrong thing. But at least she’d proven Millicent wrong about the ridiculous idea that she was good at this sort of thing. They needed Ron. Ron always said the right thing, even when it sounded like the wrong thing. She was always insanely jealous of him for his ease in situations like this.

“It’s stupid, but I wanted to see him. _A__fter_,” Millicent finally said. “Even though it’s been years, he was such a good teacher. He...I thought if anyone could help me figure out what to do next, it would be him. And he was so nice he probably would have helped me, even though I was just a Slytherin he taught several years ago. But then I heard he’d died.”

It wasn’t what she usually did, but Hermione followed a burst of instinct and stepped forward to put her hand on Millicent’s shoulder.

“He would have,” she said. “He would have helped you without hesitation.”

“Why am I even talking to you about this?” Millicent groaned, covering her face again.

Hermione didn’t have a clue, except maybe she was just in the right place at the right time when everything was bubbling over and needing to be talked about. Or maybe because they weren’t friends it was easier for her. She didn’t know how these things worked.

“You should go and talk to Tracey and Pansy, clear the air a bit,” she suggested.

“Not today,” Millicent grumbled. “I’m too tired, too grouchy, today. I’ll just end up snapping at them.”

“You’re not snapping at me,” Hermione pointed out.

“You’re not expecting anything of me,” Millicent countered. “You’re not telling me I’m not how I used to be, or that I should be doing more. You’re not acting like this _thing_ I’m dealing with is something I can just move on from like it isn’t _life-changing _and _awful_.” She stopped and sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “You’re just...I don’t even know what you’re doing. I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation before in all the years we’ve been in this castle together.”

It was strange to realise she was right. They never had talked.

“You can talk to me again sometime, if you want,” Hermione offered. “Or we could study together if you just want some company. We share a lot of classes.”

That way she wouldn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing if they were both busy studying. She was sure Millicent wouldn’t be like Ron and Harry, interrupting her every five minutes with utterly pointless and unrelated comments. If she did speak, Hermione was sure it would be relevant and interesting. Millicent marks weren’t very close to hers, not many were, but they were still good marks.

“You should go back down to the fire, it’ll help with your post-transformation discomfort,” she said as she caught Millicent rubbing at her hip with a grimace.

“They’ll probably bug me again,” Millicent muttered. “I get that I probably should talk to them, but they’ll get emotional and I just can’t deal with that today. Sit with me by the fire? They’ll leave me alone if you’re there. They’re downright terrified of you.”

Hermione stared at her.

“They’re..._Parkinson_ is afraid of _me_?” she scoffed.

Millicent laughed and shrugged. She looked a lot more cheerful than she had been sitting by the fireplace earlier, and Hermione felt a warm sense of pride for managing to brighten her mood when she must have been feeling so awful.

“You’re Hermione Granger, brightest and most badarse witch in our year,” Millicent said. “Potter may have dealt the death blow, but we’re all aware of the part you played. They’re intimated by you. Probably kill me for telling you, actually. They may act dismissive and catty, but really, they deeply respect you. I think even more so because of all you achieved being muggleborn and defying everything they believed about blood purity.”

Heat rose to Hermione’s cheeks again. She wasn’t sure about any of that. She knew the papers were still making a fuss about her, and the younger students, but she didn’t think anyone in their year would be overly impressed. She’d always been the insufferable know-it-all to them. _Especially_ to the Slytherins who had always hated her.

“I’ll read over your essay for you if you sit with me,” Millicent added. “Ancient Runes, right?”

“You don’t take Ancient Runes,” Hermione said with a frown.

“Only because I didn’t want to take too many classes this year. Because of...you know...”

Hermione continued to frown at her. “Avoiding it like that isn’t going to make it any easier to accept. You’re a werewolf. It’s certainly not easy, but it really isn’t the end of the world either. You could be dead, Millicent. You’ll struggle, but at least you’ll live. That will be easier if you face it head-on.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione could have slapped herself. It sounded far too harsh. It was the truth, but it was lacking any soft edges. She’d forgotten for a moment to be careful about what she was saying. She should have just said sorry again instead.

But instead of getting upset, Millicent surprised her by snorting and shaking her head. Hermione didn’t understand what was so amusing about what she’d said, but it was better than angering her, she supposed.

“That’s such a Gryffindor way of looking at it. Face it head-on. We don’t do things that way,” Millicent said.

“Oh. Then...do it however you lot face things then,” Hermione muttered weakly.

“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, that’s enough for one day, and too much for a day like today,” Millicent said, shaking her head again with a grimace. “You’ve already given me enough to think about. Which is shocking on its own, since it’s the first time we’ve even talked properly.”

“Okay,” Hermione said quickly. “I’ll sit with you by the fire and scare off your friends so you can rest. I don’t really need help proofreading my essay, but another set of eyes never hurts.”

It sounded cold, but Millicent nodded like it was sage wisdom, reminding Hermione again that Slytherins saw those kinds of things differently.

Maybe she didn’t have to worry about mucking this up as much as she had been.

Millicent opened the door and moved into the hallway. Hermione cast one last long look around the room and then followed her out. They received a few odd looks when they sat down in the common room, but Hermione rather thought that was more to do with how visibly different Millicent looked. She was still a bit hunched over from pain, but she didn’t look nearly as miserable as she usually did.

After retrieving and handing her essay over to Millicent, Hermione settled into her armchair by the fire and started making a mental list of books to check out of the library. She had a feeling Millicent and her friends had only researched the basics on her lycanthropy. There had to be some animals out there that wouldn’t reacted to her with a state of fear.

They weren’t friends, but Hermione understood the emotional support of a pet well enough to want that for her. Crookshanks had helped her through waking from nightmares over the summer, she’d have been in a worse place coming back to Hogwarts without him. In fact, as a half-kneazle, even he might be intelligent enough to realise Millicent wasn’t a threat. But she’d have to do some research before doing anything. It wouldn’t do to get Millicent's hopes up when she was obviously still struggling under the weight of what she was now.

Hermione looked at Millicent. She had her head bent over the parchment, reading slowly while rubbing her knee again.

It really defied belief that they had been able to talk for so long, or that Millicent seemed to have found it comforting rather than annoying.

Hermione settled back into her armchair, feeling a touch more warm than could be attributed to the fireplace alone. It was niggling at her in the back of her mind, what it all meant. She pushed it back again and returned to her mental list. She’d worry about that later, she wanted to find Millicent a pet first.

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Well...this got away from me...too far behind to write another fic for the day, this month is continuing to throw things at me that interfere with me being able to sit down and write, so here it is.
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, I'd really appreciate a comment to let me know, or [reblog this post](https://knowyourincantations.tumblr.com/post/187697666343/not-bad-for-a-first-talk-hermionemillicent) on tumblr so others might see it too =)


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